


Under the Shining Lights

by LoreKaze131, pictureperfectporcelain



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: AU, Fluff, M/M, Opera Singers, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-30
Updated: 2017-05-30
Packaged: 2018-11-03 14:56:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10969596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoreKaze131/pseuds/LoreKaze131, https://archiveofourown.org/users/pictureperfectporcelain/pseuds/pictureperfectporcelain
Summary: Things Yuri Plisetsky is ready for: his first starring role in an opera, his hard new rehearsals, his chance to finally claw his way out of Viktor's shadow.Things Yuri Plisetsky is not ready for: his professional new co-star, Otabek Altin.





	1. Chapter 1

    

*******

In Yuri Plisetsky’s not-so-humble opinion, Viktor Nikiforov had always been insufferable. However, he had lately reached a whole new level of it.

Yuri blamed Viktor’s new boyfriend. Before the famous opera-pop singer met Yuuri Katsuki, he had been a serious musician - possibly the most well known in their field of music. Yuri had looked up to him in the way that a child looks up to their cool older brother.

(That is, if the older brother was an annoying twit and the child was a particularly angry one, of course.)

But ever since they met at a music exhibition starring one of Katsuki’s original compositions, Viktor had been absolutely smitten. He was always whipping his phone out to text during practice now, and giggling loudly in a way that suggested he wanted them all to notice.

So when Viktor walked into the studio with the words, “My boyfriend, Yuuri-” everyone tuned him out. Yuri stuck his earbuds back into his ears without giving it a second thought. He was hoping to memorize the tempo of this new piece before the end of the week, and there was no room for distraction.

“Helloooo?” said Viktor. “Yurio? Are you listening to me?”

Yuri nodded. “That’s cool,” he said.

The older man frowned and yanked on an earbud. Yuri snarled and tried to shove it back into place, but Viktor would not be deterred. He kept yanking and yanking on it until it became impossible to ignore.

“Will you stop that? You’re going to break them,” Yuri snapped as he yanked both earbuds out of his ears with a scowled. “What did you need to tell me? This better not be something about that pig you’re dating.”

“Yurio~! Yuuri is _not_ a pig!” Viktor said. “And this actually is about him - _stop trying to put your earbuds back in or I swear I will get a pair of scissors and cut them into ribbons_ \- but I promise it’s something you’ll want to hear!”

He rolled his eyes. “Unless you’re about to tell me that you’ve decided to get married and move to Antarctica, I’m not interested.”

“You want us to get married? Aw, Yurio, that’s so sweet!” cooed Viktor. “I knew you cared!”

Yuri didn’t validate his stupidity with a response. He went back to reciting the foreign lyrics under his breath, which would have been much easier with earbuds.

“Okay, so you know how Yuuri’s a composer?”

“How could any of us forget?” asked Mila loudly from her spot at the piano. “Day in and day out, it’s _Yuuri this, Yuuri that_.”

Viktor pouted. “I was talking to Yurio.”

“Would you hurry up already? You’re breaking my concentration, geezer.”

( _Viktor must be very excited,_ noted Yuri. Normally, calling him old would get a rise out of him, but he hadn’t even blinked. _)_

“Being the kind and generous person that he is, my Yuuri has decided to compose the music for an up-and-coming opera written by his close friend, Phichit Chulanont!” he declared, excitement thick in his tone. “And Phichit is still looking for people to act in it!”

“No way is Yakov going to let you be in that production,” Yuri said. “Not when you could get a million bigger roles.”

“I’m not talking about _me,_ Yurio! I’m talking about _you_!”

This pulled Yuri up short. The truth was that he didn’t do operas very often - he was an opera singer that showed a lot of promise, but nobody that mattered wanted to cast a non-famous singer for their shows. If Lilia and Yakov were asked to choose someone for something, it was always Viktor who got chosen, regardless of Yuri believing he was just as good, if not better, in most ways. 

 _But I am not Viktor,_ he reminded himself. Yuri was better, because Yuri was willing to put in the work to be the best, while Viktor just let his luck and his looks carry him. At the age of 16, Viktor had sang ‘Stammi Vicino,’ a piece written especially for him by a small-time composer, and the song became a hit out of sheer luck. _I will become better than Viktor, because I have suffered for it more._  

“Why would he want to cast _me_?” he demanded. He didn’t believe that the pig actually wanted him to sing his songs; the one thing he admired about Viktor’s boyfriend was his music. Without a doubt, Yuuri Katsuki was a brilliant composer.

(Of course, he did not have celebrity status in the opera world like _some_ people, but he was probably one of the best-known composers in the business.)

“Because you’re talented!” said Viktor. “And he knows you personally! Why wouldn’t he want Phichit to cast you?”

Yuri shrugged. “I don’t know… have you considered the fact that I’m not exactly a prime candidate when it comes to male actors?” He loathed the fact that when you combined his crystal-clear soprano voice and his dainty looks, he seemed the opposite of masculine. And there was no way in _hell_ that he was playing a female in a opera, opportunity to work with Katsuki be damned.

“That’s the best part! They’re apparently looking for a more feminine male for one of the lead roles!” said Viktor. “It’s what made him think of you.”

“Fuck you, I’m badass,” said Yuri.

“Females can be badass, too! Don’t be so sexist, Yurio,” Viktor said. His voice had a teasing lilt to it, though, so he assumed that he was joking. “So, what do you say? Will you at least audition?”

Yuri pretended to think, but his mind was made up. As loath as he was to admit it, this was a great opportunity for him. How many opera-prima operas with big-time composers had a leading male role that he fit the description for? And how many more would come again?

The most important part of making it big was _exposure,_ and so far, Yuri Plisetsky had none of that.

He finally stopped looking thoughtful and nodded once, curtly. “I’ll do it. I’ll make sure to let Lilia know that she should schedule-”

His sentence was cut off by Viktor wrapping him in a bear hug and lifting him off the ground. Sometimes, he really hated being short.

***

That was how he came to be excitedly hopping around the studio with Mila later that month. The audition for the show had gone better than anyone could have hoped - Chulanont himself had vouched for him! - and three days later, Lilia called him with the news that they wanted to hire him.

He was going to star in his first ever stage production!

Everyone at the studio had been proud of him. All through the day of countless congratulations and exchanging pleasantries with people he barely knew, he wondered if this is what it felt like to be Viktor.

“So, when’s your first rehearsal? “ Mila asked once they settled down. She was one of the last people to hear the news, because she had been away on a talent-scouting trip (which was how she discovered Yuri, coincidentally).

“Next week,” he replied, trying hard to make his voice sound cool and indifferent. Mila saw right through it.

“Next week! That’s so soon! You must be really excited.”

“It’s no biggie,” he lied.

She smirked. The expression somehow seemed to reach her eyes. “I’ve been in this industry for longer than you have, kiddo, and I’ve never heard someone say ‘ _It’s no biggie’_ unless it _is_ a biggie.”

Yuri frowned. He sort of hated how Mila always saw right through him, but he sort of loved that she made the effort. “Okay, so it’s a biggie. Can you blame me for being excited?”

“Of course not! Your first major production is always exciting.”

“I’m surprised you remember yours, wasn’t it decades ago?” he said.

Mila rolled her eyes. “I’m _literally_ only 3 years older than you.”

“Tell that to the wrinkles on your forehead, hag.”

She chuckled and pushed off the wall with her feet, making the spinning chair she was sitting in shoot towards the door. Just before she ran into it, Mila grabbed a shelf of records just above her head, bringing her to an abrupt stop beside the door.

She kicked it open. “Get out of my office, brat.”

“This isn’t your office, this is a practice room!”

“Sorry Yuri, I don’t make the rules,” she said as she herded him out and slammed the door shut behind him with her foot.

***

The day of the first rehearsal, Yuri could hardly eat anything. His original intentions had been to eat a hearty breakfast so that he didn’t have to break during rehearsal, but when his alarm clock went off, his stomach felt queasy and his head felt like it was stuffed full of cotton, so he settled for drinking a liter of water and eating half a banana. The other half went in the trash. 

Since you had to be 18 to drive, and Yuri was only 16, he opted to take a cab. When he told the driver the address, the man gave him a skeptical look, but after Yuri nodded to confirm that it _was_ really _where he wanted to go,_ the man started the car with a shrug of his shoulders.

It took about 5 minutes to understand why he had been skeptical.

The car pulled up to the Moscow Art Theatre, which everyone knew was one of the biggest theatres in the country. There were a few cars already parked behind the impressive-looking building.

He stood on the curb gaping for a few moments before paying the taxi driver and marching inside.

A man at the door with a full beard and a friendly smile checked his ID before directing him towards the main room where they would be practicing. Of course, they would not _always_ be practicing here… it was a gigantic theatre, and there was no way Phichit could afford to rent it out every time.

Before getting to the theatre, Yuri hadn’t been too nervous. Sure, he hadn’t been able to eat, but that was nothing compared to what he felt now that he was standing in front of the massive doors that held his fellow cast members behind them. What if he wasn’t as good as the others? He was probably the youngest person here, after all.

He forced those doubts into the deep recesses of his mind. He couldn’t afford to psych himself out before even beginning his first rehearsal. With a deep breath, he squared his shoulders, lifted his chin, and stepped inside.

The first thing he noticed was how fucking _big_ it was inside. Obviously, Yuri had been inside theatres before, but never one this large or this empty. The only people inside were a group of three men holding clipboards sitting in the first row, and the performers that stood on the stage, listening to something a small-ish asian man was saying.

The man turned around. Yuri had expected the producer of such an ambitious opera to be more intimidating, but if this was Phichit, he had been very wrong. Phichit sported a giant grin and warm brown eyes, as well as an array of graphic-cartoon buttons pinned to his suit jacket.

“You must be Plisetsky, so glad you could make it!” exclaimed the man. “I’m Phichit Chulanont, as you probably guessed. Go ahead and join us on stage, I’m just explaining the basics of how this entire thing is going to work, alright?”

Yuri nodded. The feeling of dozens of pairs of eyes regarding him curiously followed him as he plopped his backpack into a theatre seat and pulled his hood over his head.

Once he was lined up with the rest of the cast, Yuri subtly scoped them out. So far, he didn’t recognize any of the actors he saw out of the corner of his eye, which didn’t necessarily mean he wouldn’t once he got a good look at them.

Phichit’s voice cut through his thoughts. “Let’s start by explaining a little bit about the basics of this opera! You all should have gotten a package in the mail containing your script and the basics of character, which I hope you’ve all at least skimmed by now. There should also have been a summary of the plot, so I don’t think we have to go into the specifics of that just yet…” he seemed to be thinking. He clapped his hands, and the sound echoed through the entire theatre. “Okay. I’m going to call you up by role, and we’re going to pair off into groups to practice your lines for the first act! Remember that this is just a run through to get the feel of it, alright? There’s no pressure.”

Some people nodded, but most stayed still or murmured with the people beside them.

“I’ll be making the groups according to who you have the most lines with in Act 1. Of course, only the characters with speaking parts in this act are here today, so there will be more people joining us as time goes on!” declared Phichit.

Yuri looked around and noticed two things he hadn’t before; that there were only about a dozen people in here, and that about 10 of them were men.

He wondered what that meant.

The first group consisted of “The Village Idiot,” “The Baker,” and “Timothy the Peasant Child,” played by Leo de la Iglesia, Michele Crispino, and Kenjirou Minami respectively. Now that he got a good look at the people around him, there were at least two people who _could_ be younger than him. Minami was one of them.

“For the second group… ‘Male Lead’?”

Yuri started walking to the front before he noticed another boy following him. This boy was exactly the kind you’d expect to see riding a motorcycle in an alleyway or dealing drugs (which meant way cooler than Yuri), not performing in Moscow Art Theatre. He gave the guy a dirty look, but he didn’t seem fazed by it at all, and took up position next to him.

“What’s your problem, asshole?” he demanded. “ _I’m_ the male lead.”

The guy’s face didn’t change, but something like amusement lit up his eyes. “I’m guessing you didn’t read the plot summary." 

“I did!” said Yuri.

The other boy shot him a doubtful look. Yuri felt his face heat up.

“Okay, so I skimmed it. But I was trying to memorize my lines and I didn’t have time to read it!”

“I’d suggest you read it now,” he said.

Yuri huffed in annoyance. Who did this guy think he was? He had never heard of him before in his life, and he couldn’t be older than 20. The only thing he had going for him was the tall-dark-and-handsome approach, minus the tall part, since he was only about an inch taller than Yuri himself. He pulled his crumpled papers out of his bag and tried in vain to smooth the wrinkles out until his partner handed him his own - immaculate, of course - copy.

_Fuck this guy, honestly._

He snatched it and started reading, green eyes darting back and forth across the page quickly. Finally, he stumbled across what he was looking for; the character relationship page.

And written in neat print next to his own character's name was: _Male Lead #2 - Love Interest_.

He felt his face get redder than it had ever been before as he wordlessly handed the papers back.

It was just his luck that he was playing some twink.

“That… would have been useful information,” he admitted.

“Why? Would it have changed your mind about taking the role?” the guy asked.

Yuri reflected on this. “... No.”

“Then I don’t see the problem. Let’s start.” he said. “See if all that extra line-reading did you any good.”

Involuntarily, Yuri felt the corner of his mouth twitch up. There was something he liked about his partner, whether it was his minimalist way of speaking or just the fact that he had a killer undercut.

He wondered what his name was.

As if sensing his thoughts, the guy held out his hand. “I’m Otabek Altin. I’ll be your love interest.”

Yuri hesitated for a moment before clasping his outstretched hand. “Yuri Plisetsky. I think you meant you’ll be _playing_ my love interest.”

Otabek’s dark, probing eyes stared into his own for what felt like too long. Yuri could feel himself start blushing for the third time that day, and tried fiercely to suppress it. 

“Right,” said Otabek. “That’s exactly what I meant.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was my mediocre contribution to the otayuri reversebang event, so i hoped you guys liked it! this was written by me, pictureperfectporcelain, and the illustration that inspired it (you can see it in the last chapter!) is by the person listed as a co-author, LoreKaze131!
> 
> if you liked it, you're more than welcome to validate me by leaving a review, and/or checking me out on [my yoi tumblr](http://yuri-on-ice-ice-babyyyy.tumblr.com/)! and check out the [lovely artist](http://ganimedes-lorena.tumblr.com/), too!
> 
> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
> 
> Hi! I'm Lorena! It was a nice experience to participate in this event! pictureperfectporcelain did an amazing job developing my original idea, I hope you like this fic as much as I liked it, please go check her Tumblr an give her some love!!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As opening night draws closer, Yuri is nearing the end of his rope.

To everyone’s surprise, Yuri and Otabek became fast friends after that first few somewhat-awkward rehearsals, after Otabek had invited him to take a ride on his motorcycle (he fucking knew it!) and they ended up talking for a while. Apparently, Otabek had been excited to work with Yuri on this opera when he heard he was also part of the cast. When Yuri had questioned this, Otabek revealed how they had both been taught by Lilia once.

It made Yuri angry that he couldn’t even remember this, but more at himself than at anyone else. How could he not have known that all this time there was someone keeping up with his career?

He pretended to be weirded out by it, but deep down, he was pleased. Very pleased. Why shouldn’t he be? A cool older guy admired him, Yuri Plisetsky.

Not to mention that their chemistry as actors was unbelievable. The first time they ran through their lines had been awkward and stilted, since Yuri was ahead of Otabek, but every time after that they nailed it without even having to think about it.

Unbelievable chemistry as actors… and as love interests, whispered an evil little part of his brain. He shook it off. It was totally natural for a young opera singer such as himself to develop a crush on his superior.

The evil little part of his brain was not so easily silenced sometimes, though. Thoughts such as ‘But you work with much more accomplished superiors and you’ve never cared before’ plagued him.

But none of them had ever owned a motorcycle, he rationalized. It was perfectly natural.

As the rehearsals became more and more elaborate, Yuri became more and more tired. His schedule had never been packed like this; he had practice with Lilia every morning as always, where he rehearsed his singing parts and tried desperately not to fall behind. He then had to rush to the theatre for rehearsal, which was becoming more difficult as time went on. The times of practicing with Otabek one on one were gone, replaced with bigger groups and even props. The only thing that calmed him down was the time after these rehearsals when he and Otabek would drive somewhere and relax.

“Are you ready for the first whole-group rehearsal?” asked Otabek on one of these nights. He was leaning against a stone fountain in a park, careful not to let the end of his scarf touch the stagnant water inside.

“Pfft. Of course I am,” said Yuri.

Otabek raised an eyebrow. He kind of hated how Otabek had such dramatic eyebrows. They were the only expressive thing about his face besides his eyes. He kind of hated his eyes.

(That was a lie.) ( He kind of loved them.)

“Alright, so I’m a little nervous,” he admitted. “But why shouldn’t I be? I easily have the most lines out of everyone, therefore, I have the most chance of screwing something up.”

“It doesn’t matter if you screw something up during practice, nobody’s perfect,” said Otabek. “The other day, Leroy messed up during Act III, and he had one line in that act.”

Yuri scoffed. “That’s because Leroy is an idiot.”

There was no argument from Otabek on that one. Neither of them were especially fond of the boisterous Canadian musician. What made it worse was that he was undeniably talented, so Yuri was forced to ignore what a prick he was.

“I wouldn’t say idiot…” said the darker-haired boy eventually, causing Yuri to whirl around with betrayal in his eyes.

“I can’t believe you just said that.”

“What? He’s full-of-himself, sure, but he doesn’t hurt anyone.”

Yuri wracked his brains. “Full-of-himself? He’s a textbook narcissist! I swear that he has a tramp stamp of his own initials. He uses a thousand words when he only needs one, and he always makes fun of me for looking girly!”

“I recall only one time.” Otabek sounded detached, but at this point, Yuri was getting good at telling what he was thinking. And he was clearly amused.

“What’s funny, asshole?” he demanded.

“Nothing,” he said with a chuckle. “You just sound so… violated.”

“I am violated! I trusted you and then you go and defend JJ.”

“Whatever you say, Yura,” said Otabek, lips pulling into a lazy smile.

The word YURA flashed through his head in all-caps, possibly causing a system malfunction. He must have been staring for too long, because Otabek looked at him out of the corner of his eye with confusion.

“Alright there, Yuri?”

“You can call me what you called me before,” he blurted out before he could think about it. You idiot, he scolded himself.

“Yura?” Otabek asked, making Yuri’s brain go haywire again. “Okay. I will.”

To save the situation, Yuri made his tone become teasing. “Now the question is, what should I call you?”

“Otabek,” he replied.

“That’s no fun,” he said. “I was thinking maybe something like Oaty.”

“Oaty.”

“Yes,” he said. “Oaty.”

“... Oaty?!”

Yuri burst out laughing. There was something hilarious about the name Oaty, especially when matched to the cool and quiet boy he knew as Otabek, who was currently wearing an expression of terror. “You don’t like it?” he managed to wheeze out.

“You’re not funny,” said Otabek, but he was smiling, too, so Yuri knew better than to believe him.

“If not Oaty, then what?” he pondered. For some reason, he really wanted to give Otabek a nickname now. “Ota? Beka?”

Something in Otabek’s expression changed. He nodded slowly.

“Beka? Do you like that one?”

Otabek nodded again. “I… like it very much,” he said quietly.

“Okay then, Beka.”

“Have it your way, Yura.”

Yuri thanked his lucky stars it was dark. He did not want Otabek to see the bright red flush across his cheeks, or the lovesick expression that was probably on his face.

He was so weak.

***

While the opera was progressing better than anyone could have hoped, things were hectic down at the studio. He knew that it was a good start, but realistically, Yuri also knew that performing in one opera by a hardly-relevant director didn’t mean he could get lazy.

If he wanted to become big one day, he would have to keep working for it.

This meant that he spent his days running from one practice to the next. Lilia was patient with him, as she knew his situation, but even she was beginning to get sick of how often he zoned out while she was speaking.

Otabek was the first to bring it up. He did so while Yuri was busy trying not to fall asleep on the back of his bike. Luckily, it wasn’t started yet, but still.

“Yura, I think I should probably take you home,” he said to the younger boy who had his arms loosely looped around Otabek’s waist. Yuri’s head darted up.

“No! I want to hang out!” he whined.

“We can hang out some other time… you’re exhausted, Yura. You look like you’ll fall off the bike if I start it right now.”

“That’s not true,” Yuri mumbled against the cold leather of Otabek’s jacket. Also, sometime in this discussion, he had pressed his face against Otabek’s jacket, apparently.

“Come on, wake up a little,” said Otabek. “At least until we get to your place and you can fall asleep in safety.”

“I don’t wanna sleep!”

“Yes, you do. I talked to Lilia yesterday, and she told me just how packed your schedule is… that you often stay up until midnight memorizing your lines and then you wake up at 4 am for private lessons.” Otabek sighed. “That’s not healthy.”

“But I don’t want to stop hanging out…” Yuri replied, a frown tugging at his lips. “I’ve never had a friend before.”

Otabek’s expression softened at Yuri’s sleepy voice, and Yuri’s heart fluttered. His best friend was always so stoic. He loved it when he wasn’t. Even though he often took forever to reply when he got like this, almost as if the extra emotion drained him of his ability to speak.

“We can still be friends without hanging out every day,” said Otabek eventually. (Little did Yuri know that Otabek was seriously struggling internally. It was really difficult to say no to Yuri when he was acting so adorable… but health was important, damn it!) “Besides, we’ll have plenty of time for that once the opera is finished.”

Yuri seemed to accept that answer, because he allowed Otabek to point the bike towards his town without argument. The truth was, he had never considered that he and Otabek would continue being friends after the opera.

He found that he was quite looking forward to it.

***

“YURI HAS A BOYFRIEND, YURI HAS A- SHIT,” hollered Mila as Yuri tackled her to the ground in a fit of rage.

(Mila was not the first person at the studio to give him a hard time about his new friend, of course… Viktor was such a pain in the ass, and even Georgi thought he was an expert in all matters of the heart. But she was the first person to see him, and evidently, she approved of what she saw.)

“He is NOT my fucking boyfriend,” he hissed. “Say it again and I’ll slit your throat!”

Mila reached out and ruffled his hair affectionately. “You can’t reach my throat from down there, shorty.”

“Fuck you.”

“That’s your boyfriend's job- put the microphone stand down, Yuri, I was joking.”

***

Weeks passed. With every passing day, the day of the opera premier drew nearer and nearer, and Yuri found himself conflicted over how to feel about that.

On one hand, he was glad that the long nights of rehearsal, the lack of practice, and the stress, would finally come to an end soon. He had a whole new respect for Viktor, who had been doing operas and musicals for years and never complained, after seeing how difficult it was to balance practice and daily routine.

On the other hand, he had developed a weird affection for most of the cast (excluding JJ ‘Jackass’ Leroy) and knew he would miss all the rehearsals when they were gone. He knew he would miss the excitement of starting a new act with a new group and getting to meet a whole new group of hopeful singers just like himself.

He knew he would miss Otabek.

Because of all his thinking, he had missed his cue. It was so close to being finished that whenever someone messed up during rehearsal, it was immediately noticeable.

He hurried to start singing, but it didn’t go unnoticed. Especially not by Otabek.

***

Later, while they were packing their stuff, Otabek tried to broach the subject.

Well, his version of broaching the subject was more like giving Yuri curious looks while they packed, but Yuri knew what the meaning behind the look was.

“Leave me alone, okay?” he said with more anger in his tone than he had ever used with Otabek. “I’m fucking fine.”

The older boy just trailed him out the door. They walked quietly side-by-side for a few minutes.

For some reason, the silence was getting on Yuri’s nerves. He usually liked that Otabek didn’t mince words - it was one of his favourite things about him - but today, everything was annoying him.

“Say something, asshole!” he said.

Otabek just got out two helmets and tossed one to Yuri. “You’re in an awful mood, Yura.”

“Very observant, Einstein.”

The two boys stared at each other, one with cool annoyance and the other brimming with frustration.

“Is something wrong?” said Otabek. His innocent look of concern combined with his breathtaking beauty and the knowledge that God, Yuri was going to miss this, tore a hole in his chest.

“Yes, something is wrong! This is fucking stupid. This entire fucking opera is stupid. In fact, the entire industry is stupid!” cried Yuri. “None of it is fair. I can’t wait until this whole thing over.”

Otabek shook his head sadly. “Yura, you don’t-”

“Don’t call me that,” he spat. “It’s stupid.”

Something in Otabek’s expression hardened. Something in Yuri’s stomach dropped. “You sure think a lot of things are stupid, today.”

Now Yuri was silent. He wasn’t sure where all this rage was coming from, exactly, all he knew was that it would probably be the smart choice to walk away before he said something he would really regret.

(Because this was not the first time he had been a victim of random bursts of anger. Not even close.)

“This conversation included,” said Yuri.

“You’re acting like a child.”

Yuri reeled back as if slapped. He knew it hadn’t been meant as an insult, but it hurt more than Otabek could know.

“I’m the child?” he defended. “I’m not the one who spent days memorizing his songs for one act.”

“One work ethic is not superior to another-”

“If mine weren’t superior, why are you the one working in a repair shop to makes end meet, huh, Otabek?”

The Kazakh boy seemed to have had enough. He motioned for Yuri to throw him back the helmet, which Yuri did, although out of pure spite he missed and sent the helmet sailing into a bush 10 feet to the left of Otabek.

“Yura- I mean, Yuri,” he began, breaking Yuri’s heart in two, “you’re acting like a brat. Come and find me when you’re ready to explain this mood swing of yours.”

With that, he revved the engine of his bike and left Yuri standing alone in the parking lot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was my mediocre contribution to the otayuri reversebang event, so i hoped you guys liked it! this was written by me, pictureperfectporcelain, and the illustration that inspired it (you can see it in the last chapter!) is by the person listed as a co-author, LoreKaze131!
> 
> if you liked it, you're more than welcome to validate me by leaving a review, and/or checking me out on [my yoi tumblr](http://yuri-on-ice-ice-babyyyy.tumblr.com/)! and check out the [lovely artist](http://ganimedes-lorena.tumblr.com/), too!
> 
> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
> 
> Hi! I'm Lorena! It was a nice experience to participate in this event! pictureperfectporcelain did an amazing job developing my original idea, I hope you like this fic as much as I liked it, please go check her Tumblr an give her some love!!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The faithful night if finally here, and Yuri has some wrongs he needs to make right.

Yuri spent the week following that last rehearsal beating himself up about his fight with Otabek. He knew that all friends had fights, but somehow, he hadn’t expected it to feel this shitty.

What felt shittier was that he didn’t have one missed call or text. All week. Because Otabek was the only one besides Mila who ever called or texted him.

His life was pathetic.

After deliberating over it for a few nights and deciding that _yes, he was indeed a huge idiot,_ Yuri tried calling him. Otabek’s phone must have been off, though, because it didn’t even ring. He considered leaving a voicemail, but he wasn’t sure he could handle feeling more pathetic than he did now.

That was why he was so nervous about opening night.

Of course, he was nervous for many other reasons; he was nervous because he had his entire studio coming to watch him perform, he was nervous because there would be hundreds of people in the audience, he was nervous because he could screw up in front of that many people and disappear from the industry altogether.

But mostly, he was nervous about seeing Otabek.

After all, Yuri Plisetsky had never apologized before.

***

He swore that he had a plan. He _did._ He had planned to walk calmly into the theatre, past the journalists and fellow cast members and early-comers, find Otabek, and have a mature conversation about why Yuri had been wrong. He had planned to tell Otabek that he was right, as always, and he hoped none of their personal drama affected the show. He had practiced his apology more than his songs.

All that went out the window the second he got out of the car to see dozens of people milling around in front of the largely-popular theatre, most of them just chatting amongst themselves. It was overwhelming.

He walked past the crowd on shaky legs, ignoring the people who tried to intercept him, and shoved the door to the theatre open. Inside, it was even more chaotic. The cast was running around in full costume and makeup, the stage managers were trying to get everything set up, and journalists were already inside, looking at everything with a critical eye. Yuri felt his throat constrict.

And he saw Otabek out of the corner of his eye, standing at the end of the hall, talking to Phichit. He felt every emotion of the past week come rushing back to him until all he could do was stand there and stare.

 _Otabek is really hot in costume._ He never thought he would say that about someone in suspenders, but it was the sad truth. Otabek would be hot in anything.

As if sensing his thoughts, Otabek turned. Their eyes locked for a second, and his mouth opened, as if he were going to say something.

Yuri didn’t give him the chance. He ran down the hall and crashed into him. The older boy caught him, just like Yuri knew he would.

“Beka,” he whispered into the fabric of the dumb-looking overalls. “Beka, I’m sorry.”

Another thing he added to list of things he liked about Otabek was that he didn’t make apologies hard. All he said was, “I know.”

Neither of them moved from the position they were in until they were forced out of the embrace by a group of people holding props. Even then, Otabek kept Yuri wrapped in his arms, with his chin rested on his head of blond hair.

“I was just so stressed out,” he whispered. “I was stressed out and I took it out on you. I’ve worked so hard to get here and now it’s almost over and I’m not sure how to go back to doing what I did before.”

Otabek’s arms tightened around him as the first tear slipped from Yuri’s eye.

“The only thing that’s actually stupid is how scared I am, Beka. What if I mess this whole thing up, and never get another chance?” he said, fighting to keep his voice steady. “I’ve worked for this my whole life, and I could fuck it all up in one day.”

“You won’t,” Otabek whispered. “You’re amazing. You won’t mess up.”

 “I might.” 

“You won’t,” he said confidently. “You’ve always been an inspiration to me, even before you become phenomenal, even when you were a scrawny 10 year old who had never set foot on a stage in his life. You’ve always been amazing and you’ll always _be_ amazing. This outcome of this show cannot change that.”

Yuri fisted the fabric of his sheer white shirt. He was afraid that he was staining it with his tears, but Otabek didn’t seem to care.

“Thank you,” he whispered. “You’re amazing, too.”

“Then let’s go up there and be amazing together,” said Otabek with one of his rare smiles.

“Shit! I still need to get into costume!”

“Better hurry up, then,” Otabek teased. When he saw Yuri’s glare, his smirk softened into a half-smile. “Come on. I’ll be waiting.”

***

The show went almost as good as they could hope. There were only a few problems with the lights and the costumes, and everyone got their cues right, even JJ. All the actors forgot their nervousness once they got on stage and started doing what they had been practicing for, even poor, nervous Yuri.

But, undoubtedly, the best part was not when the curtains fell and the audience thundered with applause. It was not when they went out for their final bow and Yuri spotted his grandfather in the crowd, clapping as if he would never clap again. It was not even when Seung-gil Lee handed him a business card and said he would like to work with him someday 

It was definitely in between the curtain fall and final bow. It was the moment when they finally broke position and everyone let out a relieved breath. It was the moment when Otabek pulled Yuri into a crushing hug and whispered, “ _You were amazing,_ ” pressing his lips to Yuri’s before he could return the compliment.

Even as the cheers went up around them they clung onto each other with big, dopey smiles on their faces. A few of the cast members whooped for them, and while Yuri would normally have cut off their heads for it, he didn’t mind right now. Nothing could bring him down from this high.

  
As Otabek pulled him in again, it almost felt like the cheers from the audience were for them.

 

**THE END**

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> this was my mediocre contribution to the otayuri reversebang event, so i hoped you guys liked it! this was written by me, pictureperfectporcelain, and the illustration that inspired it (you can see it in the last chapter!) is by the person listed as a co-author, LoreKaze131! 
> 
> if you liked it, you're more than welcome to validate me by leaving a review, and/or checking me out on [my yoi tumblr](https://yuri-on-ice-ice-babyyyy.tumblr.com/)! and check out the [lovely artist](http://ganimedes-lorena.tumblr.com/), too!
> 
> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
> 
> Hi! I'm Lorena! It was a nice experience to participate in this event! pictureperfectporcelain did an amazing job developing my original idea, I hope you like this fic as much as I liked it, please go check her Tumblr an give her some love!!


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